Who We Are
by TheNewIdea
Summary: Told from the perspectives of Sylvester, Wile E. Coyote and Daffy Duck. This is a story of family, friendship, and breaking the status quo. Sylvester, Wile E. and Daffy each had something taken away. Individually they will try their best to get those things back. But only by coming together do they realize just how important those things really are. Rated T. (Please Review)
1. Sylvester- The Drinking Game With Myself

Sylvester-The Drinking Game With Myself

The reception was the highlight of the evening, no doubt. Everyone was having a great time. Foghorn introduced Bugs and Daffy like they were the saviors of the industry, and in a big way they were. But everyone always seemed to forget one person-me.

The speeches were short, Daffy's was full of one liners that everybody laughed at and Bugs was always there to compliment. There couldn't have been two Looney Tunes who were made that well for each other. I decided to sit in the back of the room, it was enough to get people to notice me, mostly fans of Tweety, but that was it. No one else even gave a passing glance or gesture. I was completely alone.

The drinks didn't help. Each one I downed only made my tongue slip and my arms shake more than before. I feared that my lisp might come back, I had fought it for years, finally able to speak normally. But the doctors had warned me that the treatments would work for so long, that eventually there was nothing more they could do to help with my condition.

Bugs and Daffy took their seats at the front of the room. They seemed to be looking for someone, for a moment I thought they were looking for me. But as soon as I saw that it was their dates were searching for, it made me feel that much more unnoticed. I would've given anything for a little bit of company, even the bird would've helped.

Standing up had become something of a challenge for me. Ever since the accident with a large anvil crushing my legs, I had to use a cane. I could've opted for surgery, but the price for it was too great and I had a son to support. So I went with three years of physical therapy. My accident did not improve my social status as a Looney Tune, I was still considered a second class citizen.

Walking over to the bar with great difficulty, I sat down in the velvet stool and ordered a scotch with vodka mixed in. It would be my seventh drink of the night. The bartender stared at me, "Hey take it easy buddy. That's your seventh drink tonight" "I know that" I replied, "Just leave me alone and let me drink" The bartender sighed, "You got something on your mind?" The question was a good one, one that would take careful planning to answer. Today was the two year anniversary of my divorce, it was also the day that I first signed with Warner Brothers. But the thing that really bothered me, no one cared.

I was shaking from all the alcohol in my bloodstream, my white suit which complimented my black fur was ruffled and smelt like had been in the trash first. It was my body telling me to stop, and I listened for a total of five minutes. Barely able to stand, I looked at the bartender, "Thankst," my lisp had slowly returned, "keep the changesth" and headed back to my table.

I hated myself for allowing my brain to switch back to its default setting, all the mental preparation of two years gone, heading down a highway that I would never be able to catch again.

"Wow" a voice said from behind, "you look worse than I feel" there was too much for a slur for it to be Bugs, I could only assume that it was Daffy. I laughed, "Trustst me. It's worseth than it seemsth" I couldn't control my lisp anymore, Daffy looked at me concerned, "The lisp." he said a little surprised, "what happened? You fought so hard. Harder than me"

Daffy's jokes weren't helping, they only made it worse. "Everything Daffy. My lifesth happened" Apparently Daffy didn't want to play keeper to me and left with a pat on my back and drink to my health. Some friend.

It was then that I saw her. My ex-wife. She left me for some rich bigwig in North Dakota. I never did get an explanation for it, and why she was here was beyond me. But it made my heart break. I ordered ten drinks and before I knew it, I had ten empty glasses sitting on the table. It was the first time that I cursed myself for being a cartoon, I wanted to get drunk with every bone in my body, but all it managed to do was wet my tongue and bring my speech impediment back to its permanent effects.


	2. Sylvester- Invisibility

Sylvester-Invisibility

Bugs came over to my table, looking as if he were on top of the world. I couldn't blame the guy, he was Warner Brother's biggest star, but the least that any of them could do was give someone like me a little notice. "What's up doc?" he asked, at the same time giving his signature catch phrase. "Notshing Bugs" I answered, "Just trying to makest it throughsth the night." Bugs nodded, ignoring the fact that my lisp had returned.

"Something's wrong Sly" he said, "You're never this depressed." I sighed, "I'm living in a cardboardsth box, I don't get pa-pa-paid enough-" Stuttering? Great, just what this place needs, another Porky Pig. I tried to control my tongue, after a few seconds I spoke again, "and everyone hates me!" Bugs laughed, "No one hates you!" he replied. I huffed, "Really? The directors have had it in for me since the beginning." I answered, "You can say all you want, you're the one living in the mansion. Meanwhile, I'm the guy who's lying half dead in the streets every night because I can't get paid a decent salary to afford food."

Bugs rubbed his neck at this, obviously embarrassed, as he should've been. "Look doc, I had no idea-" I cut him off, "You have no idea! I see you every day!" I grabbed the collar of my own suit, "I borrowed this suit from Wile E. Coyote! The nicest clothes I have is a half way decent Sunday shirt, brown slacks and old, worn out dress shoes." I stood up and continued my ranting, "I have to survive by begging on the streets and eating left over garbage. I don't get a fancy mansion with women knocking down my door every night to prevent others from sleeping! My nightmares are better than my reality, because at the end of every single one, I die!"

I was panting and tired of talking to Bugs, all I wanted to do know was go home. But since it was raining outside, my box was probably destroyed which meant I was stuck in this building until security threw me out on the streets, where I would most likely die of hypothermia before the next morning. Standing up and looking around, I saw that everyone was now staring at me, "What?" I asked. Bugs stood up, "Sylvester" he began, "Is that really what you go through every day?" I nodded, "I haven't even told you the worst part yet." A slight gasp came from the other side of the room, "How could that get any worse?" Daffy replied, "I'll tell you-" I answered, "Junior lives with me."

Junior thankfully, was sitting at the other end of the room. Although technically he wasn't my son, for cartoons are forbidden to have children, I treated him as if he were my own. I couldn't ask for a better offspring. Junior was perhaps the nicest kid in the industry, but he's even better when outside Warner Brothers. I'd to think that I raised him that way, but then it would be lying, Junior just has that natural ability.

Bugs looked Junior's way and then back to me, "I'm sorry doc" he was crying now, "I really am." He was trying to be emotional for everyone else's sake. If he really cared he would've stood up for me a long time ago, for I had been in this situation for longer than I could remember.

Picking up my cane I walked slowly to the other end of the room. Junior got up and helped me to a chair, "There you go dad" he said sweetly. I smiled back and ruffled the fur on his head, "Thanks son" I answered. Junior was the only person I could really talk to now, for we understood each other without saying anything. I was just lucky that the drinks were free that night.

When it was time to go home, I was just sober enough to stand, but that was about it. Junior led me down the street and sure enough, our box was destroyed. Luckily we had prepared for just such a thing, we climbed into the dumpster. Well Junior climbed, I dragged myself up using what little strength my upper body would let me use, until I threw up in the corner of the dumpster. After that, I laid Junior down on his bed that he made, we said our prayers and went to sleep.


	3. Sylvester- With Friends Like These

Sylvester-With Friends Like These

There was a time when I did have money, there was a time when I was respected, there was a time...

I had it all-the mansion, the fancy suits, the women. I was richer than most Looney Tunes. But I didn't let it get to my head, I donated most of my money to build Looney Tune University, the school for future Looney Tunes to learn the tricks of the trade.

As for my mansion, it was the best in the neighborhood and I didn't even ask for it. Bugs gave it me as a birthday present, he said it was because I was turning 68, but really I think it was more of a "thank you" present. That was the only thing that Bugs gave me, besides friendship, in his entire life.

At the time Bugs didn't need to give me anything, but after I lost the mansion, the suits and the women, the least he could've done was help me out. Bugs did no such thing, none of them did. I went to Daffy, Foghorn and even Tweety, but they all said that they couldn't afford to take care of me. They all lived in six story mansions, they wore $50,000 suits every night and they drank the finest wine in the world, I'm sure they could have done something.

The only one who did anything was Wile E. Coyote. Wile E. is the closest thing that I have to a brother. I met him in college, he was an Engineering Major, I was an English Major, with a minor in Business. We've been friends ever since. When I lost everything, Wile E. took it upon himself to let me and Junior live with him in the luxurious apartment he was renting. I didn't want to impose or anything, I told him that it would only be for a few months, but Wile E. insisted that we could stay as long as we wanted.

Wile E. treated Junior as if he were his own, while I was busy searching for a second job, Wile E. played with Junior. He also taught Junior how to build crazy contraptions, some of which I had to use at the studio. But Wile E. was more than just a father figure, he was a friend. One night, for no reason at all, Wile E. took me to a bar for a night on the town- all the drinks were on him.

In fact it was Wile E. who introduced me to my ex-wife. I don't blame him for my divorce, it was partly my fault to begin with. I was more concerned with Junior than with her, but honestly could she really blame me? She hated Junior and she only married me for my money, which I ran out of six months after I lost the mansion.

After the divorce, Wile E. extended his offer further and gave me the apartment, while he moved back to the desert. The commute into work was almost two hours difference but Wile E. didn't care. I had to decline his offer, not because I was too proud, but because Wile E. didn't have a home in the desert to speak of, he was living under a rock. I couldn't do that.

I decided to give Junior a loving family. There was no way that I could support myself and him while having no stable source of income and no house to live in. So I took Junior to live with Tom, my half-brother, who happened to live with a mouse, his former arch enemy, Jerry.

Walking up to the house, I couldn't help but feel as if I were intruding on people's lives with my problems. But I had little choice, Warner Brothers was obviously going to lay me off eventually, my other jobs weren't pulling in the income they needed to and I had exhausted all other resources.

Tom was sitting on his porch, dressed in a red plaid shirt and blue jeans, watching the birds in the bird feeder. "Hey Tom" I replied as I walked up with Junior by my side. Tom stood up, smiled and shook my hand, "Sly. It's been a long time." Tom saw Junior behind me, he kneeled down and smiled. "Hello Mister Tom" Junior whispered shyly, Tom laughed, "How yah doing kiddo?" Tom asked, speaking Junior's language. Junior smiled and laughed in response, "Great!" he replied.

I turned to Tom, who stood up and put more feed in the bird feeder, "What can I do for you?" Tom asked. I rubbed the back of my neck, "I need you and Jerry to takesth care of Junior for me." Jerry walked outside, having seen us talking on the porch. Jerry was taller than he usually was, having grown a little bit since his days at MGM. His voice was surprisingly deep, mirroring the voice of Don LaFontaine. "What's going on?" he asked staring at Junior and me in complete confusion.

Tom turned around and whispered the situation in Jerry's ear. Jerry nodded in response and turned towards me, "Of course...we'll treat him as if he were our own." With that, he led us in the house.

Walking inside Tom's house, we sat down in the living room. Jerry pulled out a whistle and blew on it, in an instant, Jerry's cousin, Nibbles appeared. Nibbles looked at Jerry and then at Tom, Junior and finally me, when he got to Junior he smiled. "How yah doing?" he asked, Junior extended his hand which Nibbles was either too preoccupied or germ phobic to take, Junior, however shook this off. "Great" Junior replied. Jerry turned to Nibbles, "This is Sylvester Junior. He's going to be staying with us for a while." Nibbles nodded in understanding and immediately took Junior by hand and lead him to next room.

Jerry turned towards me, "Nibbles will take good care of him, don't worry." I sighed, "Thanksth Jerry...it means a lot that you guys are doing thiss." Tom and Jerry looked at each other, nodded simultaneously and then turned back to me. Tom put his hand on my shoulder, "Come on Sly. You're like a brother to us." Jerry nodded in agreement and continued, "You helped us settle our differences. Do you know how many therapists we've been to, to do what you did in an hour? Twenty five. Twenty five therapists in the past 60 years."

Jerry was exaggerating a bit, all I really did was open their eyes. It was foolish to keep fighting in real life, when you would do the same thing when you went to work the next day. Just because you're enemies on the screen, doesn't mean that you have to be at each other throats the rest of the time. Two years ago, I would've told you that such a thing wasn't possible, but Junior was the one who told me that I was being ridiculous. The next day, as an anvil dropped on my head for what would've been the seventh time in a row, it hit me, no pun intended. I realized how stupid my rivalry with Tweety actually was, so I resolved to patch things up with him.

I told Tweety to meet me lunch at the local Subway. I was actually surprised that he came at all, and that fact that he didn't bring a stick of dynamite with him was even more reassurance that this was going to work. Sitting at the table, Tweety looked around nervously, "So what's this about?" he asked, "I here in good faith you know. I was actually surprised that 'lunch' for you, means Subway, instead of me."

I laughed at his joke, Tweety always knew how to make me laugh. "Nothing like that" I replied, pausing a bit to allow the proper amount of time before I brought up the subject, "I want to start over, Tweety. You know, as friends." Tweety laughed, as if he couldn't believe that I had said it. "You're serious?" he asked, "you want to be friends with me?" I nodded, "Why not?" I answered, "it's bad enough that we're enemies on the screen. Who says that we can't be friends?" Tweety pulled out his contract, "I believe this does" he answered. Tweety had a point, both of our contracts state that we are mortal enemies. "I'm not talking about that." I stated, "I'm talking about our lives, not our jobs. We are very much our own people Tweety, Warner Brothers can't control that."

After that was out of the way we started talking, not once did the subject of work come in. That was the first time that I actually talked to Tweety, I had worked with the guy for almost 50 years and the only thing I knew about him was that he could sing. Tweety was thinking the same thing, for we both had the look of complete and utter surprise at the fact that we weren't that different from each other. We liked the same music, the same movies and even the same basketball teams, it was kinda creepy looking back on it.

I said goodbye to Junior and walked out of Tom's house, I wanted to leave before Tom's wife showed up, mostly because we didn't eye to eye. She treated Tom like total shit, and the only reason Tom didn't leave her is because she wasn't always that way. Tom knew that she was just going through a rough patch, a rough patch that lasted five years, but a rough patch. I was a little uncomfortable knowing that she was living in the same house as my son, but I knew that with Tom, Jerry and Nibbles, Junior was well protected.


	4. Wile E Coyote- What's In A Name?

Wile E. Coyote- What's In A Name?

My name is Wile E. Coyote. I am not a super genius. It took years of therapy for me to figure that out. It took even longer to realize that Road Runner was uncatchable and longer still to realize that we were meant to be friends.

Every morning at exactly 6 am, I wake up and go to the worst job in all of human history. It is rather simple-I try and catch Road Runner through various means of AMCE products and repeatedly through my own follies, get destroyed by my own inventions.

I cannot tell you how high my medical bills are, but I can tell you that for half of every day I'm in the hospital. The only part of me that hasn't been broken- my heart. Literally, that's it. My heart is the only thing that hasn't been broken or traumatized by my life.

I'm actually amazed that I'm still alive. I have been crushed by anvil upon anvil, blown up by hundreds of pounds of dynamite and fallen unfathomable depths. The best guess I could give is that the total distance I have fallen is enough to circle The Moon and the Earth at least twenty times each. For some reason, I'm still kicking, which means three things. One, I am definitely not a real coyote. Two, I have a higher purpose and Three, someone is looking out for me up there.

I got to the set late that morning. I had overslept, mostly due to a long night of preparing a lecture that I was to give at the University. If I had know how late I was, I would've stayed home. I was only at the studio for a total of twenty minutes, before it was time to go home again. Poor Road Runner was resorted to having Bugs as an adversary, a position that I am all too familiar with.

Breathing heavily, with sweat rolling down my back, I sat down in the nearest chair and began having what most scientists would call a mental breakdown. I was shaking so hard that my vision was blurred and all sound was distorted a bit. Road Runner looked at me as if I was a crazy person and in all truth I was.

"Dude you okay?" Road Runner asked as he stared at me, I nodded but didn't say anything else. Bugs came up, saw me and turned towards Road Runner, "What's up with him?" Bugs began, "Did he get hit by a car?" Road Runner shook his head, "No...he's having a paranoia attack... Wile E. hasn't been late for anything in his life."

It was true. I had completely lost it. For no reason at all, I was worried that Chuck was going to have me thrown out in the streets. I would be out of a job having lost all credibility and my name would be put to shame. This was my greatest fear.

Finally, after several minutes I had stopped shaking and now was only breathing sporadically. Road Runner pulled out the one thing that would get me to stop- blueprints. At the mere sight of them I was howling and panting like an idiot, for Road Runner had discovered my weakness for engineering during one of our numerous sessions of repeated takes of me just going over plans to trap him in a trap that would ultimately fail. It was my secret love and my passion, but in this case, it was my embarrassment.

Bugs was surprised to say the least of my reaction to the seeing the blueprints, leaning in towards Road Runner he spoke, "Is he for real, doc?" he asked. Road Runner nodded and lifted his right foot up to his mouth to somehow block his words from my ears, it didn't work. "Yes" he said, "Wile E.'s obsessed with blueprints. To him it's almost like porn."

At this I immediately stopped and straightened myself up and gave Road Runner the evil eye. "I thought we agreed that this would remain between us?" I said, turning towards Bugs I pointed a threatening finger, "You will speak to no one about this. Understand?" Bugs nodded half heartedly but that wasn't enough for me, I needed a verbal response, so I picked the rabbit up and started to shake him. "Understand!" I yelled in his ears, causing Bugs to rattle his head as if he had been struck by a bell. "Alright, alright you have my word!" Bugs exclaimed, "Do I?" I persisted. Bugs rolled his eyes and sighed, "I swear on my mother's grave and my honor as a Looney Tune to keep your _disgusting_ secret okay?"

I set Bugs down and let him go his way. I dusted myself off and stared at Road Runner, "What is wrong with you?" I asked, "You know that I can't resist blueprints!" Road Runner shrugged, "Sorry Wile E." he said, " I meant nothing by it, really. I just wanted you to pull yourself together is all. Being late for one day in your life isn't going to kill you, you know."

I knew that he had a point, my priorities needed to be seriously rewritten. As far as those go, I have intelligence at number one, power and fame at number two and three and social life at the very bottom. I don't really have much in the way of friends. The only person I'm really close to is Sly, but recent events have driven us down separate roads.

Sitting in the break room, I noticed that everyone was lost in their own worlds. They all gave glances at each other that told me that things are not so carefree and innocent as they were. The glances told me that the world had become a cold and unforgiving place, where you can rely on no one but yourself to get the things that you want. Such was the way of the world but these glances.

Then I saw Foghorn. Foghorn, who was usually the life of the party, was sitting alone at a table minding his own business and looking like he got ran over by a train. I turned towards Road Runner who was sitting across from me at my table and spoke, "Is Foghorn okay?" I asked. Road Runner hung his head and answered, "His brother just died."

I looked at him again, and again. Foghorn was hunched over a picture, presumably of the dead brother, his hands were shaking, large white feathers were on the floor. I could tell that Daffy was close to crying, I could hear him whimpering from here. But he didn't cry, I guess he thought that crying would be a sign of weakness.

I stood up and walked over, but Road Runner stopped me, "Wile E." he said, "don't. I know what you're thinking. But don't involved." Once again I gave him the evil eye, "He's hurting Road Runner" I replied, "he needs to know that someone is there." Road Runner sighed and let me go, but I could see him shaking his head in shame.

Sitting down across from Foghorn, I tried my best attempt at a smile. I knew that this situation required extremely careful planning, one wrong word would send Foghorn into a frenzy. So I said nothing. I waited for him to stop shaking, which was several minutes. Foghorn looked up at me, his eyes full of pain, but his face was full of confusion. It was as if he was asking permission to pour out his emotions. "It's okay Foggy" I said, "cry. It doesn't make you weak, it only means you're human." Foghorn then smiled, he then turned towards Road Runner and then back at me, all the while he was still smiling.

This was very confusing for me, why was he smiling if he had lost a brother? Then it began clear, I had been duped. I wanted to strangle Foghorn for the cruel joke, but mostly I wanted to kill Road Runner. Foghorn then began laughing hysterically, followed by everyone else in the room laughing hysterically. "You should've seen your face!" he said as he pointed a humiliating finger my way, "you're so gullible boy!...hey that's a good name- Gullible Wile E."

At this everyone laughed even louder than before. "Gullible Wile E." spread throughout the room. Then I just lost it, all the years of therapy and time had gone to waste in less in than three seconds. For in the next three seconds, I was at Road Runner's throat, strangling him and then I repeatedly punched his face, his body, I broke his legs to prevent him from escaping. I then snapped his neck, the three seconds Road Runner was dead.

The room had gone silent. Everyone was on their feet. I looked down at my hands, they were covered in blood. Foghorn's face was stricken with surprise and sudden grief. "Oh God!" I cried, the gears in my head finally clicked together, "he's dead. Dead...what have I done?" Foghorn hung his head and spoke the words that chill me to the bone to this very day, "No one's ever died before."

No one has ever died, not in the history of Warner Brothers did a Looney Tune die in the studio, or ever. That was immediately crushed with Road Runner. Everyone was surprised that it had happened, for it seemed an impossible thing, death just didn't happen. It couldn't happen. At least that's what we thought.

The innocence of my work, of our work was destroyed. Everything became real. The gags from then on were less and less violent, everyone was afraid that they were going to die. I had devoted myself to countless hours of research in toon death, only coming with the conclusion that it just wasn't possible. So how did Road Runner die? That is a question that I'm still trying to answer.

I hear whispers behind my back, I hear "Gullible Wile E." every day now, it has become my name at the studio. It was as if Road Runner's death didn't matter as much as the final joke he pulled. That is how things are here, we don't focus on the negatives, always looking on the bright side of life. But I have found that in order to appreciate the bright side of life, we have to venture into the darkness, and only then will we truly understand the meaning of death.


	5. Wile E Coyote- Credibility

Wile E. Coyote- Credibility

That night was the biggest night of the year. The Looney Tune Oscars. Anybody who was anybody was there. Everyone that is expect for me.

I was sitting alone in my apartment. I had tried going out but every time I did I was met with ridicule and dirty looks. The world would never be the same without Road Runner, the worst part was that he was my friend. My only friend really, and I killed him. Three seconds, that was all it took, three seconds.

I was dressed in a half way decent tuxedo. I don't make as much as the others, in fact, next to Sly, I'm the poorest Looney Tune. My medical bills prevent me from having the luxuries of living in mansions and partying every night. But just because I don't have the luxuries doesn't mean that I'm living in a cardboard box.

Which brings me to Sly. There are many reasons why I choose to help him, besides the fact that we were roommates in college. If you take away everything that a man has, his house, his money, his car, and leave him on the side of the road what does he have? Most people would say nothing. Those people are wrong, for the man still has clothes on his back and a loving family. In Sly's case however, he had clothes on his back.

Sly was always there for me, when I was sick for six months, he stood in for me and suffered seven hours every day of being hit repeatedly by the same anvil nineteen times for eleven gags in a seven minute cartoon.

Looking out my window I can see Sly cramped in his box and trying to the best of his ability to keep warm despite that the fact that it the middle of summer, he was shivering.

Walking outside, I grabbed an umbrella and headed towards the theater. I could hear Sly whimpering in his box, I couldn't help but feel sorry for him, to lose everything so suddenly. Against my better judgment, I turned around and headed for Sly's box.

When I got there, he stared at me as if he had no idea what I was doing there. "Shouldn't you be getting somewhere?" he asked, his voice was hoarse from begging that day. I sighed, "I'm not going without you" I answered. Sly laughed, "Me? Go to the Looney Tunes Oscars, the biggest party of the year! No thanks. I'll make a fool of myself." I rolled my eyes, "You won't make a fool of yourself. Now come on-" I pulled him out of the box and to his feet, "get dressed. You can't go to the party naked."

Sly looked himself over, he wasn't wearing any clothes and he honestly didn't seem to care, for he was a cat after all. I sighed, "Look at you, Sly. Living in a box, eating garbage. You're better than that. Much better." Sly huffed, "I know" he said as he put on my white suit that he hid in a dumpster, "but I can't just get my lifesth back now can I? Porky has my mansion, Foghorn has my suits and Bugs and Daffy have all the women. How am I supposed to compete with that?"

I slapped him in the face as hard as I could, landing Sly in the mud puddle that was next to his box. "I never said that you had to compete! That would mean lowering yourself to their level!" I cried. Sly stood up and brushed himself off, "Well what do you suggeststh I do, Professor?" Sly was the only one who called me by my title at the University, I liked that. "Beat them" I answered, "you have real potential...you can outshine us all, if you use what you've been given."

Sly laughed at this, "Potential!" he slapped me on the back like you would an old friend, "Professor, let's not kid ourselvesthe here, I'm Sylvesther! I don'th have anything. I'm not even worthy to clean your shoes or walkth the same ground as you." I frowned at this and straightened Sly up, it was time for him to stop beating himself up for his life. It was time for him to change. "Listen Sly" I said, "you're coming with me. One way or another." Sly just huffed and crawled back in his box.

I could only shake my head. To have fallen so far from grace, to be given the shit of the world and eat it as if it were nothing. It was a sad existence to be sure. But if I knew Sylvester like I thought I knew him, he would rise above, take that pile of shit in his hands and shove it up Warner Brothers' ass. He would be triumphant, a symbol to the community, all that he had to do was see who he could be.

Pulling up to the theater in a stretch limo, the first thing I saw when I arrived was the red carpet. There were cameras and reporters everywhere, all of them were taking pictures and rambling on and on about who was going to win what Oscar and the dresses of the different women the cartoons brought with them and all that random boring nonsense that I don't have time to actually care for.

Stepping out the limo, I was met with flashing lights that temporary blinded me and millions upon millions of questions. One reporter stopped me in my tracks. Holding a microphone towards me and a camera in my face, the reporter began to speak, "Mister Wile E. Coyote, everyone is talking about your motives for killing Road Runner..." I stopped him right there, "What happened was an accident" I answered, "now please, we are all very upset about this whole thing, myself included. This is the one night a year where the Looney Tunes get the respect they deserve."

I continued walking, ignoring the reporters bombardment of questions about Road Runner, my opinions of the studios recent and possibly illegal activities and social views on the poor and down trod.

It was then that I heard the sound of a limo door shutting. Turning around, I saw Sylvester standing there alone in the middle of the red carpet. He was dressed in the nicest clothes he had, a simple Sunday shirt, dress pants and shoes.

Sylvester looked pitiful, it was all I could do not to just take him away from that place and send him home. The really surprising thing was that he held his ground, he didn't flinch, didn't shy away like I expected him to, like everyone expected him to. Then Sly did something amazing. He walked forward.

As soon as he moved, a murmur from the large crowd of reporters could be heard. This murmuring soon escaladed into yelling, and the yelling into screaming. I will not tell you the things they said, for they should not be repeated, they were that horrible. In those few moments, I realized how right Sly was when he said that everyone hated him simply because of what he was to them. Sly was seen as a monster, he was seen as a monster because he chased Tweety on screen. This impression had been dug into the minds of the general public, so that's how people saw him.

Then the bottles started flying. They came from all directions, even some of the toons were throwing random garbage at him. But even as he repeatedly got hit with bottles, paper balls and leftovers of food, Sly kept walking down the red carpet.

It was difficult to watch, but it only got worse from there. One of the reporters threw a 40ox at Sly's head, causing him to fall to the ground, his head bleeding. As soon as he fell, the cameras started rolling, the throwing of bottles and garbage had doubled and the laughter never seemed to end.

Sly could barely stand. I could hear the faint sobs that escaped from him, I could hear him pleading to me, begging me to help him. I ran over as fast as I could, hating myself for not doing anything sooner. As soon as I reached him, the bottles and the laughing stopped.

I grabbed Sly's arm and pulled him to his feet, allowing him to put all of his weight on me. I looked around, the reporters' faces were in shock, the toons were expressionless. After several minutes of silence, I spoke. "You should be ashamed of yourselves!" I stared at the reporters, "Here is man trying to raise himself up. To be more! Isn't that what we all want? What we strive for?" I turned towards the toons, my voice got louder and full of rage, I pointed an accusing finger and spoke again, "And you have the audacity to deny him! One of your own! You should be praising him, should be protecting him. Yet all you do is laugh, make jokes. You think this is a game? This is life!" At this all of the toons involved hung their heads in shame, but I denied them even this, "No!" I cried. I raised Sylvester's head up, "I want you to look." My voice was now menacing, "I want you to look at what you've done. You destroyed the very meaning of our existence, by acting this way. We're supposed to stand for the people, to stand for each other, universal brotherhood for all men! And you dare call yourselves Looney Tunes? You make me sick."

Sly was laughing silently to himself slowly regaining consciousness, "That's funny Wile E." he said, slipping in and out of various levels of delirium. Without saying anything else, I repositioned Sly on my shoulder and continued down the red carpet, finally making my way into the doors of the theatre.


	6. Wile E Coyote- Unpopularity

Wile E. Coyote- Unpopularity

Walking in the theater, I got Sylvester an ice pack and led him to the auditorium. The auditorium was big enough to fit every Looney Tune ever made ten times over and still have enough room to fit the principle Disney stars. In short, it was massive.

Instead of stadium seating, there were tables and chairs, these tables and chairs were organized in the hierarchy of importance to the industry. This hierarchy is very simple: The Big Four- Bugs, Daffy, Porky and Foghorn were seated in the front row. They were followed by the Gentleman's Club- Elmer, Yosemite, Barnyard Dawg, and Tweety. After the Gentleman's Club it goes in random order all the way up to the Balcony in the very back of the room.

The Balcony was the place that people like me, what the Warner Brothers called Anarchists, sit. I am not an Anarchist, I am an Idealist. Just because I believe in fair and equal treatment for all people does not make me an anarchist. If that's what anarchy is, than the entire government system is an anarchist system. But all irony and joking aside, the Balcony was also a place where the degenerates, the unwanted and the unloved sat.

Walking down the aisle towards the front of the room, for we assumed we would be directly above the Gentleman's Club, we were met with sneers and insults. Looking at Sly, I could tell that he was taking them personally, especially since one of the comments was about his inability as a father. "Listen Sylvester" I whispered in his ear, "don't let them get to you. Their just upset because you're such a great influence." Sly nodded his head slightly and tried his best to smile, but I could still feel that he was hurting.

We managed to make our way to the Big Four. Porky was with Petunia, Daffy was with Melissa and Bugs had Lola. Foghorn was with a hen named Janice, from what I could still they were pretty serious, but then again, I didn't really care about Foghorn's life-for he had ruined mine.

"What are you, I say, what are you doing here?" Foghorn asked, I ignored him and turned towards Bugs. "Nice evening isn't it?" I began, failing at small talk. Bugs nodded as if he couldn't believe that I was going in the direction I was going, "Yeah...it's wonderful." he answered, looking at Lola, he made introductions, "This is Lola, my fiancée." Lola extended her hand which I took graciously, "Pleasure as always..." Sly attempted to stand on his own, but he only managed to stumble on the table.

Stabling himself, Sly looked at everyone and smiled meekly, his head was still bleeding but apparently he didn't care enough to do anything about it. He just kept smiling on, as if nothing ever happened. In a way, you can't help but admire that.

"You okay?" Daffy asked, looking concerned at the cat, who only took the nearest seat he could find and put his hand on his wound. "I'm fine" Sly answered, "just..." he trailed off after that, the pain was too much for him, he could barely keep his eyes open. Daffy stood up and walked towards me, leaning in he began to whisper, "How bad was it?" he asked. "A 40 oz bottle hit his head" I replied, "but I think it's more emotional wounds that physical. Those reporters have bite."

Daffy sighed and pulled out a business card with his information on it, "Call me alright?" he said, "I want to make sure he's okay." I raised my eyebrows at this, Daffy was not one to take sudden interest in people, "Why do you care?" I asked. Daffy only shook his head, stared at Sylvester and then back at me, "I don't" he was lying, "I'm not doing this for him. I'm not doing this for his son. My interests are purely for the sake of business, nothing more."

I nodded in understanding and took the card. Daffy was not one to take sudden interest in people and he certainly wasn't a sentimentalist, but I could tell he was lying when he said he didn't care.

We found ourselves sitting in the Balcony. It was a disgrace, I wanted to complain to the management, but Sly didn't seem to mind. To him, it was normal. He was beginning to see himself as what people had called him, he was beginning to think that the world didn't care, and in retrospect the world didn't care, but there was no reason to think that way.

"Come on Sly" I said, as I strained to see the stage, "we shouldn't be up here! It's a disgrace to our work, what we've done for this studio." Sly laughed, "If it's recognition you're asking for Wile E., than you're just as stupid as they are." I stared at him, in complete disbelief, "I'm not asking for recognition! I'm asking for justice. We should be done there with Bugs and Daffy not up here." I looked around and noticed that we were the only ones in the Balcony, an even further disgrace to what I've- we've done to this studio.

Mickey Mouse was the host for the night. Warner Brothers thought it would be a good idea to promote their upcoming partnership with Disney if Mickey hosted the event. It was the worst thing that they could've done, not because Mickey was Disney and that Warner Brothers and Disney had a long history has rivals, those days had long passed. It was because Mickey was a terrible host.

"Good evening everyone and welcome to the Looney Tune Oscars" Mickey said as he stepped on stage, I could see the sweat that was rolling down his neck from the Balcony, he was nervous, as he should have been. "Let's get on with it then-" he continued as he pulled out the note cards he had been given. This was going to be a long night.


	7. Daffy Duck-Meaningful Things

Daffy Duck- Meaningful Things

It used to be that these things meant something. A chance to get out, dress nice, feel important. A chance that if you won an Oscar, you would get bragging rights for the year, you can say that you were the best out of everyone. That's what it used to be.

Now the Looney Tunes Oscars are nothing more than a symbolic reminder of how we will never be as successful as we were then. Those days are long gone, and no matter how much we try to get to those days back, eventually it all comes back to the simple idea that we're chasing dreams, wasting the days we have regaining what came before, when we could've been having the time of our lives.

My name is Daffy Duck. I am not a sentimentalist, I am not a support of toon civil rights, and I am definitely not an idealist. My only concern is myself and if that means helping others to boost my own standing, so be it.

The mouse began rambling on and on about the companies accomplishments and the reasons for our creation. What a way to kiss Warner Brothers' asses Mick. You're a trooper, a real friend, an acquaintance, you know what I'll just say it. Mickey you're the biggest douche bag I've ever met.

"The award for Best in Show goes to-" Mickey began, "Daffy Duck." Standing up I was immediately met with applause, as I walked up on stage the applause got louder. I smiled to the best of my ability, took the award from Mickey and stepped to the microphone to give the short, typical, Oscar "Thank You Speech" to the audience.

"Ladies and Gentlemen" I began, holding the award in my right hand as I spoke, "this award is completely meaningless to me." Everyone started laughing, but my face was all business. "I have seven of them just like this on my mantle at home" I continued, "so let's just admit what we all know. This award show is a pitiful excuse to try and relive a past that is long dead and gone...the only ones who really get any awards are myself, Bugs, Porky, and Foghorn. The Big Four." The room had grown silent, I had the attention of the entire audience.

I didn't even give them the satisfaction of me finishing the speech. I threw the award down on the ground and turned back towards the audience, "It's over!" I yelled, "the Looney Tunes are dead!" I stared at Bugs and continued, "We lost our voice with Mel Blanc...we lost our minds with Chuck Jones, Freleng and McKimson...but we died the day we started The Oscars. We can't come back, as much as we want to, we can't."

I stepped away from the podium, picked up the award and headed back to my seat. From that moment on, there was no applause for any of the Awards given. Because everyone knew that what I said was true. The Looney Tunes are dead and we're never coming back.

The pace picked up rather quickly over the next hour. For now, it was the time for the one award that actually meant something- The Best Looney Tune Award. This Award was different than the others by a major difference, the audience voted on who received it, so it just as much a popularity contest as it was a principle of honor.

Someone always voted Bugs every year, for the past three he had gone unopposed. But that doesn't change the fact that in order for him to get the award, Bugs had to make a speech, stating the reasons as to why he was worthy of it to begin with. Do you what I think? I personally think that Bugs only gets nominated because he's Bugs Bunny and everyone expects him to win. Bugs doesn't win because he deserves it, at least not all the time, he wins because he's intimidating, because he has power and is willing to use it to get what he wants. He is more feared now, than he was ever loved in his entire career at Warner Brothers.

In my case, it's exactly the opposite. My influence as a Looney Tune has gone down significantly, I still have money, I still have the mansion and I still have Melissa, but I don't have any power. All of that went to Bugs. As my influence decreased, my popularity among the poor and lesser known Looney Tunes increased. They claim that I speak for them, that I can open the eyes of Bugs and some of the other higher Looney Tunes to their troubles.

I have no intention of speaking about civil rights, I have not an activist, an abolitionist, whatever label you can put on me I am not. I am simply Daffy Duck, trying to make a living in a world that no longer cares for me nor I for it.

Bugs stood up on stage, waiting to see if anyone would oppose him. I stood up and walked on stage, I knew that my chances of winning were close to zero, especially after what I said, but I couldn't let Bugs just slip by without opposition. At this, close to 90% of the audience began to boo me, I stood there motionless on stage and waited for the moment that I knew would be coming.

"I nominate Sylvester!" a voice yelled from the back of the room, unmistakably it was Wile E.'s. I smiled and waited for Wile E. to lead Sly up to the stage and then I stood to the side to let him take my spot. I wasn't really going to throw my name in the hat, as the saying goes, I was just waiting for the right moment.

Sly stood there, shaking a bit with Wile E. by his side. Walking forward, I took the shaking cat's hand, he stared at me and said nothing. "It's alright" I whispered, "I'm right here." Sly smiled weakly and spoke for the first time, "Thanks Daffy" he replied, he turned towards Wile E. and then back to me, "you guys will stay with me?" I looked at Wile E., "To the end?" I asked, Wile E. smiled and laughed, "To the end."

Then the speeches began. Bugs started first...

"Let me say right now that it is an honor to be nominated for the seventh time in a row..." Here we go, more ass kissing to the bosses, why to show your spine Bugs. "There's a reason why I get this award every year-" It is because you have your hand in Warner Brothers pockets? Or maybe it's because of your cynical attitude and hypocriticalness towards people. It's one those right, Bugs? "Because you good people find it in your hearts to give it to me..." Really? Half in the audience who vote only do because they're scared of you, you know this Bugs and yet just like everyone else you play it off.

When Bugs was finished ranting and raving about how great he was, it was Sly's turn. Stepping up to the podium, I could feel his nervousness, the whole thing was extremely uncomfortable for me, for Wile E. and most of all for Sly.

Sly looked around the room, he could sense the hate that the audience had projected on to him, he could feel that he didn't belong there with his Sunday shirt and dress pants. I know this, because at that moment, I felt the same and I wearing a suit.

"Ladies and Gentlemen" Sly began, "I don't know why I was nominated for this award. Maybe it's for sympathy, maybe not." The audience began to murmur once more, those who were closer pulled out 40 oz ready to throw at their earliest convenience. I was not going to have that, this was Sly's moment, his time to really be something.

"I live in a cardboard box on two blocks away from this theater" Sly continued, "I barely have enough money to buy decent food, to care for my son..." at this he trailed off, as if Junior had set him into a flashback only he could see. Barnyard Dawg stood up, "He lives in a box? How pathetic!" he cried. This produced wave upon wave of endless laughter. It was shameful, it was disgusting and for me, it was the death of everything that Looney Tunes stand for.

Sly began to cry, he allowed the crowd to continue with insults, throw bottles and even garbage. But just because he allowed it, doesn't mean that me or Wile E. did. I turned towards Wile E., "This has gone far enough-" that was all I had to say before Wile E. pushed Sly out of the way and took control of the podium.

"Enough" he shouted, "idiots all of you!" Sly was on the stage floor, covered in broken glass and bleeding. Grabbing him by the arm, I took him off stage and headed for the back room. Throughout all of this, Bugs only stood and watched as the chaos unfolded.

The back room was more like a broom closet. I sat Sly down in a chair and looked him over, he was banged up and battered, he was tired. I grabbed the nearest rag I could find and brought it to Sly's head. He looked at me, as if he didn't know why I was there. "You're insane" he said, "helping me. You'll ruin your reputation." I rolled my eyes, "I'll be ruining more than I assure you" I replied, "What you do mean?" Sly asked his eyebrows raised slightly. I sighed, "Melissa..." tears formed in the corner of my eyes, "after that display, she'll leave me, I know it." Sly shook his head, "You don't know that" he said. I laughed, "You don't Melissa" I answered, "she's not into all this...politics. Now that I'm involved, she'll leave me, I'll be alone again."

Sly sighed, "I'm sorry Daffy" he said, "I didn't mean to drag you into this." I laughed, "You didn't drag me into anything. Warner Brothers did. They're the ones who gave me the seven awards that I didn't earn to begin with." I stood up and headed towards the door, "I'll get her back, somehow." Sly smiled and stood, "I've never seen you love anyone as much as you love Melissa. Do me proud and marry her will yah?" I smiled weakly, "I might just do that Sly. I might just do that."


	8. Daffy Duck-Death is Overrated

Daffy Duck-Death Is Overrated

I decided that it would be better if I simply left the theater all together than go back to my seat. There was too much tension in the audience, too much hatred for me now, for to simply sit down at my table as if nothing ever happened.

Walking around the lobby though, I could still hear the Awards going on. I tried to the best of my ability to listen in, but the doors had been locked from the outside. That's violating safety laws, but then you are in a room full of toons, so I guess they can be overlooked.

It was then that I saw something that made me question everything that is wrong with our universe-Road Runner was sitting in a chair, comfortably lounging and looking around the room as if he had nothing better to do.

"You're alive?" I said as I walked over, my eyes twitching a bit at the awkwardness of the situation. Road Runner looked at me and laughed, and laughed. "Of course I'm alive" he answered, "Do you know how many times Wile E. died on set? 4,500 times, sometimes he died twice in a single episode." I was confused, for Wile E. had killed Road Runner, "But Wile E. killed you. How are-" Road Runner laughed harder at this, as if he realized something that only he and Wile E. knew. "It's very simple. I learned how to die from the very best without the very best knowing that I was learning how to die."

I sat down across from Road Runner, who stared at me as if he was waiting for me to speak. He looked like a college professor, and was probably just as smart as one too. "Listen Road Runner-" I began, "Call me RR" Road Runner replied, "It's shorter, easier to say and everyone calls me RR eventually." I sighed, "Alright fine" I continued, "I'm not going to open to you, RR." The bird leaned in closer, he was almost directly in my face, "Why not?" he asked, his voice showing signs of hurt and confusion.

I took off my tuxedo jacket and laid it on the chair casually, then I unfastened my bowtie and set it next to the jacket. Looking at RR I answered his question, "Because I'm not people person." RR laughed at this, he wiped a tear away from his eyes with his foot, "Of course you are!" he said in between his periods of laughing hysterically. "No I'm not" I persisted. RR continued laughing, "Why are you denying who you are?" I stood up and began to pace for no reason, RR stared at me his eyes curiously searching me for the answer I wouldn't give.

I laughed, but it wasn't the laugh that you would give when something was really funny. It was the empty laugh, the laugh that people give when their remembering something or trying to forget it. "I'm not denying anything" I answered, "I just-" before I could finish Wile E. had entered the room.

Wile E. first looked at me, "We lost" he said sadly. I nodded, I had figured as much. Whenever Bugs enters a contest, Bugs always wins- hands down. He then saw RR, his face wasn't so much happy as it was confused, "You're?-" he started to say, but RR cut him off, "How yah doing Professor?" RR said. Wile E. got on his knees and thanked heaven, RR only smiled and nodded his head. "I would've killed me too, Wile E." RR exclaimed, "I would've killed me too."

The reception was the highlight of that evening. But Sly already told you that. Everyone had forgotten my speech, how I openly criticized Warner Brothers and Bugs' abuse of power. By the end of the night, it was as if none of that had ever happened.

The next morning I was fired from Warner Brothers, along with Sly and Wile E. We didn't make a pact, no affirmation of friendship none of that. We just went our separate ways, each of us trying to pick up the pieces of our lives as best we could. But I knew that we would never be the same. My story begins, when I got home that day, what you would now consider tomorrow, to find myself once again, alone in the world.


	9. WIle E Coyote-The Important Things

**Sorry about the wait. I've suffered writer's block with this forever. Finally got around to it.**

Wile E. Coyote-The Important Things

I sat at my kitchen table. It was covered in various meats and blueprints for my creations for the Studio. I had made a list of things that I want to accomplish in my life, so far the list is very meager, only two things are on it: 1. Be recognized as a super genius and 2. Fall in love.

It's not a very complicated list, although I will admit the second one will take some doing, for I'm not exactly a ladies' man like Daffy. As you can imagine, I'm not a social creature, my work at the university is private and time consuming, that combined with the studio doesn't leave me with a lot of free time to socialize, with friends or potential mates. Not like it would make a difference, for I was born to live a solitary existence. Despite what RR keeps telling me, "No one was born alone; we have all our mothers, someone who loves us unconditionally."

But who could ever love me? Me, the coyote who chases and tries to kill the beloved Road Runner, everyone's favorite golden boy, besides Bugs and Daffy? That is the curse of all Villains in this society; it doesn't matter if we're Warner Brothers, Disney, and Hanna Barbara-what have you. If we are Villains, we are automatically hated by everyone, judged by the world, spat upon and never given a chance to stand for ourselves. It is the worst kind of prejudice imaginable, for not only are we seen as inferior to the humans but by the cartoons we stand beside. No one is above the simple laws that God created, to respect all people and give each and every individual a chance to become more.

I could talk about this all day if I wanted to. But I will spare you the dissertation and let the story simply tell itself.

RR knocked at the door, "Wile E., you home?" he asked in his usual friendly manner. Making my way to the door as fast as I could, I opened it to find RR and his wife standing in the threshold each of them holding a box with their right talon. "What's the occasion?" I asked smiling ear to ear, for it had been a long time since I had anything in the way of company. RR and his wife laughed, "Come on man!" RR exclaimed, "don't tell me you forgot your own birthday!"

I can't believe I had forgotten my own birthday. How old am I? I guess it really doesn't matter, since I'm a cartoon and thus can't die, so let's just hit the ball and say I'm 75. RR fortunately pulled out a cake with the number candles-61. So apparently, I'm younger than I think I am, a strange and interesting reversal. Sitting the cake on the kitchen table, RR pulled out a lighter and lit them, then he smiled and nudged me, for I was standing there looking like an idiot. "Well?" RR said laughing, "blow out the candles dude." I shook my head and brought myself out of my blank staring and saw the cake. I stared at RR and smiled and then I blew out the candles.

Let me say that I was surprised that the candles didn't explode as soon as I blew them out. For usually RR did something along the lines of that every year, thankfully, this was one of his years off from his usual tricks. "Well what'd you wish for?" RR's wife asked, I wagged my finger at her, "Ah, no, no. I can't tell you. It'll ruin it." RR's wife rolled her eyes, "Oh come on Wile E. stop being so childish and tell us already!"

I smiled for the Road Runners always did have a way to get to me, besides Sylvester, they were my only real friends to speak of who actually liked me. Like I said before, I'm not exactly popular among the Looney Tune community, even at the University I'm the loser and I'm the guy who was voted most likely to be successful in both high school and college. I have to say that is true, I am successful, but the saying that "It's lonely at the top" has been rung its bells more truthfully than for me.

Sitting down in the living room, which had little more than a small couch, a coffee table and a lamp, I began to open my gifts. First was RR's, I was expecting a steak or something along the lines of food, but instead I got a plaque. The inscription alone was worth more to me than any amount of money in the world: "They say that's its lonely at the top. If that's true than They was standing on the wrong mountain. For you are at the top Wile E. and no matter what peak you're on, I'll always be standing right next to you-RR." I cannot put into words what I felt in that moment as I read the plaque, for anything that I say would immediately do it injustice.

My paws were shaking; I thought that I was going to drop it. Sitting the plaque down, I turned to RR and did the only thing I could do. I embraced him like you would a brother and cried my eyes out. RR smiled warmly and patted my back with his talon, "It's alright Wile E." he said, "I'm here, I'm here." It took me almost ten minutes for me to compose myself, after which I opened Mrs. RR's present. It was a picture of all the Looney Tunes at the company picnic the year before. I was standing next to RR my arm around his back. Sitting on top of RR was Tweety. Sylvester was next to Daffy. Bugs was in the center like he always was, surrounded by Elmer, Yosemite Sam, Foghorn and Porky.

On the back of the picture was everyone's signature, mine was in the upper right hand corner, barely noticeable. Daffy's was in the center and was also the biggest one, with Bugs' right above his. Sylvester's name was not even present. I stared at RR, "Where's Sylvester's name?" I asked. RR looked it over and shrugged, "He must not have signed it." I searched my memory for the signatures, remembering that everyone, including Sylvester had signed it. Pulling out a magnifying glass, I scanned the picture; I had to look over it twice for me to catch it. Sylvester did sign his name, but it was so small that it was almost impossible for anyone to see it without the use of a magnifying glass or a microscope. Next to his name were the words, "No one will know who I am by the end of this year. It's easier if I just fade away, out of existence."

I read the message to RR, who only hung his head in sadness. "Poor dear" RR's wife exclaimed, "I wish there was something we could do." RR shook his head, "Sly's stubborn. Anyone who comes to help he'll just assume that their pitying him and refuse." He turned back to me, "Hey didn't Sly and Junior live with you for a bit?" I nodded, "Yes. I even offered them the apartment for keeps, but he declined. Didn't want me to be left out on the streets, I guess." RR sighed, "We'll take them in" he began. But his wife shook her head in disagreement, "We can't dear. Not if we're going to try for a baby."

I stopped, for this was news to me. "You're going to try for a baby?" I asked. RR nodded his head and leaned in bringing his voice down to a whisper, "We've been trying for two years. Doctors say that this is our last chance and-things aren't looking good. I'm goanna romance her tonight and hope for the best though." I nodded in silent understanding and we continued talking over dinner.

After dinner was over, RR and his wife left to do their business. Sitting once more on the kitchen table, I pulled out my list and began erasing. I then started to add things that I should've put down a long time ago. The new list is as follows: 1. Help Sylvester find a home, a wife etc. 2. Help RR with marital problems...12. Be recognized as a super genius...14. Fall in love.

Satisfied I put the list in my back pocket, cleaned off the kitchen table and retired to bed to get ready for the next morning at the University.


	10. RR- Hearts and Olive Branches

RR-Hearts and Olive Branches

It was pretty obvious that it would be impossible for us to have kids. It had been our third time at it and frankly it was getting to a point of desperation. But there wasn't a lot I could do, I gave it my all, I really did, but I guess I'm defective or something cause my sperm didn't take, died before anything could begin.

It was actually kind of depressing, knowing that you're a failure in that regard, that your line is over. It's a little different with cartoons, mostly because we can't die, add in the fact that what we were doing was extremely illegal, for cartoons are lawfully unable to have children to begin with and we get into legal situations.

Now I'm not a smart bird, not by any means. Like Bugs, I'm resourceful. Believe it or not, Daffy and Wile E. are the smartest people in the Looney Tune community followed very closely by Sylvester and then Foghorn Leghorn. All of them is smart in their own way, especially Wile E., who everyone calls The Professor. Wither it was originally a mocking tone or an affectionate one it doesn't really matter, for Wile E. took to it almost instantly. The strange thing was that at the University, Wile E. was hated.

Everyone had completely forgotten about Sylvester's sacrifice, that he had built the University using his own money and the donations that he was able to scrape up from the other Looney Tunes. The only reason why there is a preceding generation is because of our distant relatives, who are not considered by and large to be Looney Tunes and thus can have as many children as they want. But then things get complicated, so complicated that it'll take two Wile E.'s to explain. I simply ask that you accept the reality for what it is so the story can continue.

Sitting down on the couch I stared at the fireplace and thought about how I was going to go about it. I could be subtle and simply start with the pecking of the neck, she seemed to like that. Or I could do the classic foot approach, where I use my feet for everything, that's sexy in its own way I guess. But then there was the whole thing about really going all the way, or sprint it like you would a marathon. Believe me I've ran a lot of marathons, both literal and figurative, like in this sense.

She came in dressed in this ridiculous looking feathered hat. In truth it almost made me sick, but I couldn't turn her down, not after I made my promise that tonight was going to be all about her. In a strange sort of way I didn't want to go through with it, there was no emotion in it for me; either that or I just didn't have the right kind of stimulus. Even when she exposed herself to me I felt nothing, it was as if the drive that we once had, had suddenly disappeared.

"Look" I began, starting to feel uncomfortable, "do we really have to do this?" She pouted and raised shook her upper lip like a dog, "Roadie, you promised." I sighed; I am not one to back out of a promise, especially when it comes to my wife. "Alright" I said, trying to be enthusiastic and will my body to do what my head tried to do, but nothing happened. Even when we began there was still this empty feeling, as if we were doing it to force ourselves into this life that we wanted. It wasn't out of love but out of desperation, which is one of the worst reasons to do anything.

I stopped; it was getting difficult to breathe for she was practically on top of me, trying to get me into it by bouncing up and down and jiggling her upper body with everything she had. It was pitiful. "Stop" I yelled as I pulled myself away, "that's enough!" She stared at me, her face full of hurt and confusion, "But I thought that-" she stared to say, but I cut her off. "No. It's what you want" I said calming down as I moved closer, "believe me it's what I want too. But not like this, not this way."

Then she began to break down into tears, if there was one thing I couldn't stand it was seeing her cry. I brought my small wing around her and sat down on the couch, bringing her with me. We sat on that couch and said nothing, both of us silently reflecting on our endless efforts at trying for a kid. It was impossible. There are some things that just aren't meant to be, but there was one thing that my wife was meant to be, it was a mother and she can't be that. At least, not in the way that she wants to.

The next morning, Sylvester came at our door with Junior in tow. Just seeing Junior brought her into a crying fit, I sighed, stepped through the threshold and stood outside the apartment.

Sly looked around nervously, as if he were rethinking something deep and troubling, Junior meanwhile, said nothing. "Something you want to talk about?" I asked, trying to break the ice and hopefully get a conversation going. "Yeah" Sly replied, "I was wondering if you could watch Junior for me...I understand if you're busy, I can make other arrangements." I raised my talon, stopping him, "Say no more. I can watch him for a few hours while you go job searching. I'm guessing that Tom didn't work out?" Sly shook his head, "Him and his wife were going on a second honeymoon." I nodded in understanding, "And Jerry?" I pressed, "What about him?" Sly sighed deeply, "He's visiting family upstate and won't be back till Monday morning at best, maybe longer."

I looked back towards the door and then back at the cats, "Listen, I can take him but its goanna have to be away from here. Jane's not in the best of moods right now." Sly looked at me as if he had no idea who I was talking about, I rolled my eyes, "Jane? My wife...married her about three years ago?" Still nothing, "You were the groomsman. Ate a lot of bad fish, Foghorn burned down the cake and Daffy gave a valediction speech." Sly shook his head, remembering the details of my wedding day. "Oh right" he exclaimed, "Is something wrong?"

I looked down at Junior and then back at Sly helplessly, for part of me wanted to answer and part of me wanted to hold back. I listened to the former, "We've been...trying for a kid Sylvester." I laughed heartedly, "I'm a failure as a husband if I can't even-" Sly raised is paw and put it on my shoulder, stopping me. Sly smiled at me, it was the brotherly smile that one could give when they've known someone for 20 year. Here Sly was reaching out to me to help with his kid, and yet, he in turn was helping me with my problems. "Road Runner" Sly began, "you are many things, a friend, a brother, a loving husband. You treat Junior like a son, so much so that he calls you Uncle. You are many things Road Runner, but if it's one thing you're not, it's a failure."

It felt good hearing that, even if it was used in every other movie and story since the beginning of time, it still felt good. Sly then turned and hugged Junior goodbye, shook my talon and left, heading down the street to continue his never ending job search.

I decided to talk Junior to the nearest park I could find. I needed the fresh air and it gave him a chance to be normal, to not live in a cardboard box and eat real food. Every feather on my body was telling me that if I were to do one thing it would be to help Sylvester and Junior, I wouldn't care what it would cost or what I had to do to make sure that it got done. I couldn't simply sit still and do nothing. So I made a few phone calls and got myself a meeting with Bob Warner, the head CEO of Warner Brothers.

Sitting with Junior outside the office in a small waiting room, I began to silently revert back to my old habits of beeping to pass the time. Junior laughed, "Why do you do that?" he asked, I shrugged, "Old habits I suppose" I answered, "that and it helps whenever I'm nervous about something." Junior nodded in understanding and began contently twiddling his thumbs.

The office door opened and a loud bushy voice yelled, "Come in" that was Bob. Standing up from the chair I smiled at Junior and entered the dark office, hoping for the best possible outcome as I began running through the conversation that was sure to play out.


End file.
